


In search of my mother's garden, I found my own

by drarryisgreen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: hd_fluff, Community: slythindor100, Fluff, M/M, Malfoy Gardens, Slash, hd_pots_n_porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 20:36:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/957349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drarryisgreen/pseuds/drarryisgreen





	In search of my mother's garden, I found my own

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FantasyFiend09](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasyFiend09/gifts).



Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, this story was written for fun. No profit is being made.

*-*-*-*-*

“What do you miss most about Malfoy Manor?” Ginny Weasley, junior reporter for the _Daily Prophet_ , was interviewing former Death Eater, Draco Malfoy, who had lost everything after the war. His father was sentenced to Azkaban and his mother was killed by Bellatrix Lestrange when the Dark Lord had realised that Narcissa had lied to him.  
  
“My mother, of course, but about the Manor itself? I’d say the garden, my mother’s garden.” Draco smiled at Ginny but he knew she could see the sadness in his eyes. After the war and the trials, the Ministry had given Draco his freedom but it came with a price. He was stripped of all of his wealth; he’d lost the house, and was forced to stay with Potter as his minder.  
  
Surprisingly, Ginny Weasley had been the kindest to him, and they had developed a sort of friendship. In the beginning, she’d gone to the Black Family home to visit Potter, and she talked to Draco as well. She was the only one that talked to Draco. After two years of living with Harry—it had stopped being _Potter_ after the first two weeks—Draco was “discharged” from his sentence and was working as an assistant Potions’ Maker at the Diagon Alley Apothecary.  
  
“What specifically do you miss about them?” Ginny asked. She’d finally convinced Draco to share “his side” of the story about the war and everything that had happened to him. She began publishing small interview pieces in the _Prophet_ , a sort of Q & A with Draco and it became a sensation in the wizarding world. After the first six weeks of issuing the dialogues, many wizards from around the Continent had begun to send in questions.  
  
“I miss the summers,” Draco said. “My mother used to work in the garden, and I used to sit with her, sunbathing. She’d talk, sometimes to me, sometimes to her plants and it was serene. I miss that, the serenity. I miss the two hours a day of tranquillity, when my father wasn’t around, when there were no politics discussed, no arguments had. Just the peace of being.”  
  
“That’s beautiful, Draco,” Ginny said after the interview had finished and she was writing up her notes. “I’m sure you’ll definitely get more fan letters after that little poetic note.  
  
“You told me to answer honestly,” Draco said, defending himself. He had never been this open with anyone before, not even Harry and they had lived together for two years.  
  
“Don’t get ruffled up!” Ginny eased his anxiety by ensuring that it was the right thing to do. Draco sighed with relief and returned to work.  
  


•⁰⁰•

  
_Malfoy, please come by my house this Saturday at two o’clock. ~ Harry Potter._  
  
“Must be time for the bureaucratic review again,” Draco said aloud as he read Harry’s note that he’d received in the morning.  
  
It had been nearly five years since the war and after the two years of living with Harry, the Ministry still required Draco to “check in” with his minder from time to time to ensure that he was on a straight path. Draco chuckled at the phrasing of it. If he’d realised anything by living with Harry that his path was definitely not _straight_.  
  
Though he’d allowed himself the luxury of finding Harry attractive, doing anything with that fact, taking it to the next level was strictly forbidden. Even if it was a self-inflicted rule. When no one was around, Draco allowed himself to pout for a moment and think of how much he wanted Harry. A few seconds of self-pity later, he’d straighten himself up and return to his day.  
  
Draco arrived at number 12, Grimmauld Place, precisely at two o’clock as per Harry’s instructions. He knocked on the door and the door flew open. That was strange, that never happened before. Harry had given Draco permission to use the Floo Network into the house, or simply Apparating in, but he preferred the traditional method of knocking on the front door.  
  
Draco walked in through the hallway, past the site where once a decorated row of shrunken House-elf heads used to be, and instead hung portraits of the Potters and the Weasleys, looking tiringly cheery.  
  
He entered the kitchen and smelled jam. Usually a jelly or jam doesn’t have a distinct smell but Draco knew, when Harry made it, the honey infused jam was so magically brilliant that the smell intoxicated his senses completely.  
  
Draco walked through the kitchen remembering the vision of Harry licking his jam filled finger and only got distracted when he saw something that he knew wasn’t there before when he used to live in that dreadful house, a door that led _somewhere_. The door was closed and Draco was most intrigued. Where did this door come from? What was beyond this door?  
  
Unable to hold off his curiosity, Draco headed towards the mystery door. He slowly opened it and walked through only to feel as though he had been transported into the past, into the Malfoy gardens.  
  
He saw rows upon rows of flowers, especially roses, they were his mother’s favourite. They were in every colour imaginable: red, white, pink, yellow, orange, even mustard! It looked as though the field was unending, spanning for hundreds of yards. As he continued to walk through, fearing to touch the flowers as though it was all a dream and would soon disappear, Draco came across a picnic set up.  
  
“Oh, you’re here,” Harry said as he looked up from his book. He was dressed in nothing but black shorts with green stripes. “I didn’t realise it was two o’clock already, I would have met you at the door. Though I did charm it to open when you arrived.”  
  
“Harry, what is this?” Draco finally asked as he mustered up some words through his surprise.  
  
“It’s a surprise, for you,” Harry said. “I read Ginny’s article and I figured I could do something. Hermione helped me figure out the magic. It’s just a temporary charm that I can place for a few hours a day.”  
  
“Harry…” Draco was at a loss for words. He couldn’t even comprehend the meaning behind this gesture. Harry had been nice in the past, he had _always_ been nice—Draco had figured out that was part of his charm—the whole damn reason he’d begun to find Harry attractive. But this was _beyond_ a simple gesture of camaraderie.  
  
“I thought you could have some of your serenity back,” Harry added when Draco had been too quiet for too long.  
  
“Thanks,” Draco said sighing with wonder. He still felt as though he was in a dream. “I thought you wanted to meet me for the Ministry matter.”  
  
“It doesn’t mean we can’t have a nice picnic as we talk. And perhaps sunbathe that you miss so much, being surrounded by peaceful plant life.” Harry smiled and gestured for Draco to sit next to him. “You should probably remove some of your clothes if you really want to enjoy the warmth and the ambience.”  
  
Draco raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Or keep your clothes on, I don’t care. The charm is only going to last another hour or so.”  
  
“How did you get the garden to look like—”  
  
“Your mother’s?” Harry asked and Draco nodded. Draco unbuttoned his shirt and began to remove it. He wasn’t too sure but he thought he saw Harry staring at him for a brief moment. “Like I said, Hermione helped.” Harry looked away from Draco and into the garden. “We found old photos of Malfoy Manor in Ministry archives and we worked together to create a replica of the estate.”  
  
Draco was stunned. “That must have taken you—”  
  
“A lot of trials and errors, yes,” Harry said.  
  
“Why did you do this?” Draco had been dying to ask that question ever since he’d arrived at Harry’s home. Why _was_ Harry doing this. He looked at Harry who’d turned his gaze back towards Draco, he looked down at Draco’s body, then looked at his lips, then his eyes. Harry licked his own lips for a second before speaking.  
  
“I invited you to tea several times. Hermione even made _excuses_ and invited you to a random affair. I figured out, thanks to Ginny’s help, that you thought that my invitations were out of courtesy, you had no idea that…” Harry paused to give Draco a piece of the fruit he’d cut up for their picnic.  
  
“No idea, what?” Draco asked, taking the fruit from Harry. Their fingers slightly brushed each other. Draco didn’t want to pull his hand away.  
  
“Perhaps my delivery was wrong. I wasn’t inviting you out of courtesy. I was inviting you over because I missed you, because I was…I am—”  
  
“You what?” Draco didn’t think that the shock value of that day was ever going to stop. First a replica of his mother’s garden, then Harry’s almost confession, he only wondered what was going to happen next. He had so busied himself in work, keeping himself away from Harry. He busied himself away from wanting to be with Harry, he hadn’t realised that Harry wanted to be _with him_.  
  
“Are you really going to make me say it?” Harry asked.  
  
Draco shook his head. “Harry, I just…I had no idea,” Draco said. “I mean I like you, but I didn’t know you were…and I didn’t realise…”  
  
“I know, that’s why I had to do _this_. To make you realise.”  
  
“What do you hope to get from this?” Draco asked.  
  
Harry smiled. “I just hoped for a picnic every Saturday,” he answered. “Start off with something small.”  
  
The reproduction of Draco’s tranquillity was not something small. It was the grandest gesture anyone had ever made for him. Draco wanted so desperately to lean into Harry and kiss him. Thank him for the offering, and satisfy his own curiosity of tasting Harry’s lips.  
  
“Just Saturdays then?” Draco asked interestedly.  
  
“Whenever you want to come out here and sunbathe, Draco. I can make this happen every day.”  
  
Draco nearly spat out _‘you just want to see me naked_ ,’ but refrained. He really didn’t have a problem with that.  
  


•⁰⁰•

  
They stayed in the garden until the simulated sun was setting. They were quiet for a while until Harry chuckled to himself.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“I just remembered that Ron…one of the times we were practicing forming the garden, insisted that we try crop circles...Hermione was not impressed.”  
  
“You can always rely on Weasley to distract you from your objective,” Draco said. He eventually smiled and Harry continued telling Draco his many other disaster stories. Draco still was taking in of how much _effort_ Harry really had put in to form the perfect garden.  
  
“Do you wish to stay for supper?” Harry asked. “Or we can go out—”  
  
“I’d like to stay,” Draco responded with a smile. He quickly got up off the sheet and began to dress. Harry followed.  
  
“Well that’s a shame,” Harry muttered and looked up at Draco, almost panicking, as though Draco wasn’t meant to hear that. Draco laughed and finally reached over to Harry and pulled him in for a kiss. They stood still for a few moments, their lips gently touching as Draco breathed in the scent of Harry’s mouth, tasted his tongue and then bit on his lower lip. Harry moaned and arched into Draco; Draco eventually wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist.  
  
“What happens when the charm ends and we are still here?” Draco whispered against Harry’s lips.  
  
“The room disappears and we simply get kicked out into the kitchen. It isn’t very pleasant or graceful,” Harry answered, and then chuckled.  
  
“We better get going then!” Draco flicked his wand and the sheet folded itself and all the other picnic materials placed themselves on top of each other. He twirled his wrist again and the items began floating in the air. Harry held Draco’s hand and they walked back to the enchanted door and the items followed.  
  
“I smelled that you made your jam again today,” Draco said when they entered the kitchen and the door disappeared.  
  
“Yeah, do you want to have some?” Harry asked, clearly enthused about it.  
  
“Maybe for dessert,” Draco replied and winked. Harry blushed almost immediately.  
  


•⁰⁰•

  
A year had passed and Draco had moved back in at Harry’s home. Except now, they shared a bedroom.  
  
Draco was sunbathing in the garden again when Harry came rushing in with the day’s _Prophet_ and Ginny’s latest article—on the two of them.  
  
“How Harry Potter is my Personal Saviour,” Harry read aloud.  
  
“Stop!” Draco rolled over to try to take the paper away from Harry’s hands.  
  
“You really said that?” Harry exclaimed reading over the article.  
  
“I was delusional!” Draco tried to defend himself. “We had just had a quickie when Ginny showed up to interview me and I was in my post-coital bliss!” He knew there was nothing he could do to reason with Harry. Harry was going to tease him about the article for weeks.  
  
“I’d like to be in post-coital bliss right now.” Harry looked up at Draco from the newspaper and winked.  
  
“You’re wearing too many clothes for that,” Draco answered, turned his head and closed his eyes soaking in the sun. “I only have 30 minutes left here, I can’t believe the snow storm we’re having, _and_ the fact that you’re taking me to the Burrow for dinner.”  
  
Suddenly, he felt the weight of Harry on his lap, who Draco knew was no longer wearing _any_ clothes. “A lot can be done in 30 minutes.” Draco opened his eyes and looked down at Harry’s erection. He licked his lips with desire. “And I brought jam.” 

  
•⁰⁰•

  
_The End_


End file.
